


The Last Gets Bitten

by Nouna



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Halloween, M/M, Monsters, Whumptober 2020, dead cat, restricted emotions, undeviated RK900 turns deviant, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nouna/pseuds/Nouna
Summary: RK900 is Detective Reed's government mandated RK900 android unit and assists him in his cases. This time they are on the hunt for a serial murder with the name of Mr. Chelsea Towers.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	The Last Gets Bitten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auxbloood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auxbloood/gifts).



> I don't know if I got it truly spooky, but this is my best shot at a Halloween challenge. 
> 
> Cheers everyone.
> 
> Gifted especially to auxblood for the strongest motivational booster :] 💙

RK900 hunted its target down with laser focus as it sprinted through that dark and narrow alleyway. Everything was prepared. Their trap was set. After a whole day of trailing, waiting, and observing, their fugitive was now finally done for.

"Hands up, DPD, you are under arrest!", shouted Detective Reed as he jumped down from the left building side fire escape right into Mr. Chelsea Towers's path, his weapon already drawn and ready.

\- Mr. Chelsea Towers did not hesitate even the fraction of a second, though.

Without losing any of his speed he ducked down and pressed forward. Easily he ran Detective Reed over, slammed him into the ground with all of his built up momentum. A shot went loose from Detective Reed's weapon. Mr. Towers rolled right over the Detective's knocked down body and kept on running with barely any sway in his steps.

Its thirium pump skipped a noticeable beat as RK900 stopped sharply at its handler's side. Detective Reed's safety was at all times its highest priority and Mr. Chelsea Towers was known for stabbing his victims to death. For a full second of frozen processes, RK900 had calculated an around seventy percent possibility that that had been what it had just witnessed.

"Detective, are you alright?!", it asked its handler and threw itself down at his side to instantly assess the done damage.

RK900 experienced a whole flood of disorienting software instability notices in its self-check algorithm the moment it performed a full body scan of Detective Reed and ascertained that he was indeed not truly wounded.

Detective Reed was obviously winded, though. A little dazed even, since his head had slammed down quite hard onto the concrete in the course of his fall.

There was a very small, mostly forgettable laceration at the back of his head. Some droplets of blood seeped into the collar of his brown leather jacket.

More serious was the bleeding bite on his tongue, caused by the sudden overthrow and his fall.

Detective Reed took his breaths in fast and rasping gulps of air. "Nowhere… mentioned… android…", he croaked out of his spasming chest while RK900 helped him to sit upright. The genetic profile of the blood RK900 detected along the zip line of Detective Reed's jacket did not match that of its handler.

"Mister Towers is human, Detective", RK900 corrected him in reference to Mr. Chelsea Tower's DPD criminal Database profile.

But Mr. Towers was above average in height and muscle mass, which could help to explain his sudden surge of energy through a human typical fight or flight response while adrenaline addled his brain.

"Anyway", rasped and gasped Detective Reed and gathered the blood of his bitten tongue in his mouth to spit it aside. "That poor bastard will soon enough wish for someone to put him out of his fucking misery…! Fuck… I hit him, didn't I?!"

RK900 nodded. "I believe so", it stated and pointed at the red marks on Detective Reed's jacket. The Detective's eyes followed the gesture of its hand before his face pulled into a grimace and he forced out a low groan while he also wrinkled his nose.

RK900 started its assessment. Through the blood on Detective Reed's jacket, as well as the footage it took during the chase, it reconstructed the most likely trajectory of the gunshot. Mr. Towers had been hit off-center of his navel, along the right side of his body.

Since Mr. Towers had felt fit enough to stand and run, Detective Reed's stray shot must have missed basically every major organ, which seemed like a wasted miracle on a man like him.

But gunshot wounds, more often than not, lead to infection and sepsis in humans. Since Mr. Towers could not just seek out a Doctor's office or a hospital he had no choice but to run and bleed.

That circumstance provided RK900 with a unique opportunity to track him down through the traces of Mr. Towers's own bodily fluids he had left behind.

"Are you alright to continue, Detective?", RK900 asked, just to make sure. Its handler gave it a _dirty look_ and stretched his middle finger in a frequently repeated gesture. "One day I'll show you what we humans are made of. _Are you alright to continue_ , my entire arse. Fucking tin can", he mumbled moodily around his swelling tongue. RK900 smiled.

In a sure grip, it pulled its handler back onto his feet. Detective Reed instantly shook RK900's hand off of his arm as soon as he stood upright again. "But first we have to find that bastard. Preferably before he kicks the bucket. What a load of bull", Detective Reed groaned and shook his head *like a wet dog* and kept on rolling his sore tongue through his mouth like he could not find a comfortable position for it.

RK900 began its scan of the near vicinity. Easily it found traces of blood that didn't match with Detective Reed's genetic profile. It was an instant match for the blood RK900 had already detected along the front of Detective Reed's jacket.

There was a faint trail across the street they could follow since Mr. Towers seemed to bleed quite freely. Dangerously so.

"This way, Detective. We have to hurry", RK900 said and led the way. Its handler maybe grumbled, but always followed no more than one step behind.

* * *

Mr. Towers took an extraordinarily long track through the downtown area before he reached the docks of Detroit's old harbor. RK900 turned its head and looked up at the abandoned and almost completely sunken freighter of Jericho. Along the pier, some people still left flowers, stones, and candles for the ones lost to the purge.

RK900 lowered its gaze back onto the trail it had been following for almost two hours now. The nearing dawn already painted the formerly black night sky into a strange washed-out grey. RK900 imitated a human frown when it decided to crouch down once more by the blood trail. Just to make sure it swiped two of its fingers across the next shiny black blotch on the concrete and then pressed them down onto its analyzing tool.

The DPD criminal Database provided it instantly with Mr. Chelsea Towers's information.

_AMAB human Chelsea Towers --- 34 years of age // domiciled in 52 Farrow Road --- suspect in three unrelated cases of murder --- two times in rehabilitation for red Ice addiction --- Classified as violent --- AI_A rating '0' marked under 'priority_NULL'._

It was decidedly odd.

Mr. Chelsea Towers was human. There was nothing special about him or his history.

Still, the analysis of the sample on RK900's artificial tongue suggested that Mr. Towers suffered from a noticeable iron deficiency and his red blood cell count was quite low as well. As RK900 compared these two data points to the statistics of an average human, Mr. Towers should not be able to stand and walk, let alone run for miles from active pursuers.

Aside from the outliers in Mr. Tower's bloodwork, RK900 estimated his blood loss to be around three liters by now. The man should be barely conscious if alive at all.

RK900 had made sure to check every sample at every street corner to guarantee they were not following the dead trail of a completely different person.

But the blood was Mr. Chelsea Tower's, clearly.

Should RK900 report its findings? Admit to a possible malfunction of its analyzing tools that could ultimately lead to its own decommission…?

RK900 stood and took parade rest position while its eyes searched for Detective Reed.

"Sure that the poor bastard isn't secretly an android?", the Detective asked as he watched out across the harbor.

No need to tell him. Detective Reed already knew that something was not right about Mr. Towers. Even though his human brain could not connect the dots and data points as vivid and efficiently as RK900's could.

RK900 imitated a soundless sigh before it lifted its gaze to scan the old and abandoned cyberlife facility as their next target to search through.

This facility not far ahead had once been the first of cyberlife's automated and completely autonomous production plants. A place where machines had built machines to sell and transport them right off the assembly line.

This factory had once been a trial project. A small prototype area that had been fast closed off as soon as the concept had proven its worth and functionality. When Jericho came into existence, this production hall had already been closed off for years.

Today the factory grounds were draped in a loud kind of silence. RK900 guessed its own uneasiness around the place came with the expectation of movement and noise where none was present. It all had been deactivated and forgotten a long time ago.

"Mister Chelsea Towers has a complete bureaucratic history, including grade school report cards, and all of the usual documentation. Even a driver's license. His parents are still alive. While, technically, it _could_ be possible for an android to kill him and take his place", RK900 answered, but lifted both its brows to give its handler the special look it designed to let the human know when it felt completely unimpressed by its random _hunches_. "That notion is utterly absurd. Mister Towers's blood is red and very real, Detective. Additionally to the sheer ludicrousness of an android choosing a human fugitive to replace, rather than some unobtrusive person without any close family members. Aside from all of that, there is _nothing_ that can change the color of thirium."

Detective Reed made a humming noise as he lifted his brows and returned RK900's gaze. His right elbow pressed hard into it's left side to prop up his weight as he leaned against RK900's sturdy frame. "Really?", he asked with a childish undertone of skepticism in his voice. "You could not just, dunno, mix that stuff up with pigments or even food coloring if you wanted something fancy?"

RK900 smiled at the thought of turning its own thirium supply green just because it felt like it. "Thirium is naturally blue and has to be pure to function as a conductor that does not contaminate the delicate parts of our system. Any augmentation and a thirium-based android could suffer the equivalent of a stroke."

Detective Reed forced out a low huff and sunk even heavier against RK900. "Another thing that sounds so easy but doesn't work at all with you lot. You guys are weirdly backward when it comes to your design. I mean, weird long-ass legs, all types of inbuilt replaceable and swappable tools and parts, sure, but you can't change some random color settings or it breaks you."

RK900 smiled and used the holo-emitters along the palms of its hands to project a perfectly curved rainbow between them.

Detective Reed broke out into a fit of snorting giggles and RK900 suddenly felt… _seen_ in a way that… _felt_ … almost unreal.

Its handler's hand slapped two times hard against its left shoulder. "Okay", Detective Reed pressed out through his fits of giggles. "Let's find that poor bastard. Then we'll report back - you'll get your job well-done head scritches, I'll get the yelling - an' then we can talk about that Spongebob marathon I promised."

RK900 placed a notice on its HUD to remind Detective Reed, should he forget it later.

To create a personal attachment to RK900's presence was not necessary, nor was it officially recommended. However, from day one of their partnership Detective Reed had not cared for the ground rules listed in RK900's handbook. He said it was just a boring time-waster if he only needed to ask it about any and all of its functions should any kind of explanation be necessary. So RK900 kept on answering all of the questions he asked - and ignored all of the obvious ones he didn't.

Obediently it turned and confirmed the direction of the blood trail that led them to the production plant. Since its deactivation the building was on an ever-lasting lockdown. As it seemed, there was no way inside.

On the south side of the building, finally, they found an open hatch originally meant for entering and leaving security drones. Mr. Chelsea Towers had obviously used it not even that long ago. The wall under the hatch was smeared with bloody handprints and the dirt of his boots. The hatch was further up than even RK900 could reach. Curious how Mr. Towers had gotten inside.

Detective Reed looked up and down the blood and dirt painted wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Hella inviting."

RK900 tilted its head and presented its most important finding. "I can lift you up, Detective."

Detective Reed frowned up at it and snorted a faint noise. "Well, since I sure as shit can't lift you, yeah. Why the fuck not. Any other way for you to get in there?"

RK900 scanned the vicinity. The windowless walls were too smooth and high. It would not be able to reach the roof to check up there. But there, not very far left along the southside wall, was the old loading bay. A bunch of ramps and abandoned first-generation autonomous vehicles.

"There are reinforced roll gates at the cargo area", RK900 said and pointed in its general direction. "Through workplace regulations there has to be a way to open them manually from the inside. The trigger should be right next to them."

Detective Reed's gaze followed the gesture of its hand before he nodded his affirmation. "Good. On it. Boost me up, will you?"

On a second note, RK900 would rather not, but it wasn't there to decide how things were done. There was no imminent threat. Its scans detected no vital signs inside the warehouse. Like the data suggested, Mr. Chelsea Towers was most likely already dead.

RK900 picked Detective Reed up under his arms like a big, stubborn child and ignored the abuse instantly hollered at it. "Don't do anything stupid, Detective", it said as it boosted him up to the security drone duct. Whatever his loud complaints, Detective Reed did not struggle against RK900's hold. Noisily grumbling under his breath he clawed himself into the tiny crawlspace. "One more word and I'll do your mom", echoed his voice out of the tight conduit.

RK900 smiled as it felt reminded of its handlers last horrible android joke. Something about unclear instructions and a dick stuck in a toaster. It had made no sense, so RK900 had followed the instructions of its own operating system and deleted the footage to avoid inconsistencies and filter out unnecessary datas input. Now it felt a sudden… _something_. A regret of some sort.

Detective Reed had laughed.

RK900 saved the footage of their latest interaction to its protected hard drive, even though it could not quite point out any logical reason why.

Meanwhile, Detective Reed slipped through the drone duct and landed rather inelegantly on the other side of the wall.

His heart rate spiked, as soon as his feet barely touched the ground. His breath came short as he forced out a gagging noise. Something seemed to upset him badly.

RK900's eyes snapped wide open as it dedicated all of its processing power to scan for possible threats to its handler's safety.

If Detective Reed was perturbed by something he perceived, it would not do to just mindlessly yell for him. RK900 first wanted to send a message to his phone, but the noise and the display flash could put the Detective at a great disadvantage or even into grave danger.

Its scan of the vicinity showed RK900 absolutely nothing of interest. There were no other footsteps, no second heartbeat, no other body heat profile. Nothing at all.

So RK900 decided to follow Detective Reed along the other side of the wall and finally took its place patiently waiting in front of the first roll gate by the loading bay.

There it deactivated all of its unnecessary functions and ceased any noise and movement.

Detective Reed moved very slow. Most likely there wasn't any light source but his phone screen inside. Efficiently designed machines did not need light or moving airflow to function as intended, so there were most likely not even ceiling lights inside. Detective Reed felt and groped for every object on his direct path, slowly moved between empty assembly lines and all the old generation tech cyberlife had not bothered to take when the project had been abandoned.

Finally he reached the cargo bay and felt his way to the loading area. When his hand pressed against the reinforced gate, RK900 lifted its hand to imitate his touch on the other side for no logical reason at all.

Detective Reed reached out to the side, searched for the mechanical locks of-…

A sudden glitch disrupted RK900's entire operating system and brought its vision down to the camera feed of its optical units. Detective Reed flinched, almost as if he had felt it as well, before he moved away from the gate.

RK900 could no longer see him. Its vision was limited and its auditory sensors picked up a rather strange frequency, almost like white noise, without any ascertainable origin.

Could it be-…

‘No…!’, Detective Reed's shock frozen voice instantly drowned out the strange anomaly in RK900's artificial ears. ‘I-… no, no way! S- stay away!!’

But suddenly the anomaly screeched even louder through RK900's auditory processor. So loud in fact, RK900 wanted to put its hands over its ears to make it stop.

RK900 powered up all of its formerly deactivated functions and wanted to call out for its handler the exact moment when four shots fell inside the warehouse not far from the gate.

…

…

**HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Reed';)  
\--- **LOST** ;

 **ALERT_** :607_ **T.A.P_NOTICE** :_[ **THREAT** ]_R-15m;  
 **ALERT_** :607_ **T.A.P_NOTICE** :_[ **THREAT** ]_R-15m;  
 **ALERT_** :607_ **T.A.P_NOTICE** :_[ **THREAT** ]_R-15m;

 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_607_ **T.A.P_NOTICE** :_[ **THREAT** ]  
\--- X

X == **THREAT** :_Category:[ **LEATHAL** ];

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" **RUN** M_SC.EXE

[XXXX.XXXX.XXXX]; --- XXXXXXX  
[XXXX.XXXX.XXXX]; --- XXXXXXX  
[ **HS**. **VISUAL**. **PROCESSOR** ]; --- **UNRESPONSIVE**  
[ **M**. **VISUAL**. **PROCESSOR** ]; --- **RESTRICTED**  
[ **PRE**. **CON**. **MATRIX** ]; --- **UNRESPONSIVE**  
[ **AUDIO**. **NC**. **FILTER** ]; --- **UNRESPONSIVE**  
[ **M**. **AUDIO**. **PROCESSOR** ]; --- **RESTRICTED**  
[ **MOTION**. **S** (1-100)]; --- **UNRESPONSIVE**  
[XXXX.XXXX.XXXX]; --- XXXXXXX  
[XXXX.XXXX.XXXX]; --- XXXXXXX

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" --- **ACTIVATE** :_[ **M**. **EMERGENCY** _ **RESPONSE** (9.3)];

[ **M**. **EMERGENCY** _ **RESPONSE** (9.3)] == **DISENGAGE** / **DRAWBACK** / **REGISTER** _ **NEW** _ **HANDLER** ["Captain Jeffrey Fowler"('Captain')];

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" **RUN** PR_C-v975.EXE  
\--- **ERROR** _:10.6_Authorization[ **NEGATIVE** ];  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" **RUN** PR_C-v975.EXE  
\--- **ERROR** _:10.6_Authorization[ **NEGATIVE** ];  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" **RUN** PR_C-v975.EXE  
\--- **ERROR** _:10.6_Authorization[ **NEGATIVE** ];  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" **RUN** PR_C-v975.EXE  
\--- **ERROR** _:10.6_Authorization[ **NEGATIVE** ];  
 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" **RUN** PR_C-v975.EXE  
\--- **ERROR** _:10.6_Authorization[ **NEGATIVE** ];

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor":_ **TERMINATE** :_[ **M**. **EMERGENCY** _ **RESPONSE** (9.3)];  
\--- **ERROR** _:10.6_Authorization[ **NEGATIVE** ];

 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor":_ **TERMINATE** :_[ **M**. **EMERGENCY** _ **RESPONSE** (9.3)];  
\--- **ERROR** _:10.6_Authorization[ **NEGATIVE** ];

 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor":_ **TERMINATE** :_[ **M**. **EMERGENCY** _ **RESPONSE** (9.3)];  
\--- **ERROR** _:10.6_Authorization[ **NEGATIVE** ];

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor":_ **INITIALIZE** :_' **MASTER** \--- **OVERWRITE** '

 **THREAT** \--- Security.Breach:_ **ALERT**  
 **THREAT** \--- Security.Breach:_ **ALERT**

 **THREAT** \--- Emergency.Response:_ **COUNTDOWN**

 **TERMINATE** :_ **COUNTDOWN**  
 **COUNTDOWN** **TERMINATED**

 **MASTER** \--- **OVERWRITE** :_[ **ACTIVE** ]

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor":_ **TERMINATE** :_[ **M**. **EMERGENCY** _ **RESPONSE** (9.3)];

[ **M**. **EMERGENCY** _ **RESPONSE** (9.3)];  
\--- **TERMINATED**

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" **RUN** PR_C-v975.EXE

 **OBSERVE** \--- Motion.trigger:_ **ALERT** ;

Preconstruction.Assessment  
\--- maintaining;

Preconstruction.Assessment  
\--- maintaining;

Preconstruction.Assessment  
\--- maintaining;

 **CREATE** \--- Possebility.Matrix;  
Possibility.Matrix --- **CREATED** ;

 **SELECT** \--- **SCENARIO** :_Probality:[ **HIGH** ];

**ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor":_ **TERMINATE** :_[PR_C-v975.EXE];

[PD_C-v975.EXE];  
\--- **TERMINATED**

**HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Gavin'; 'Reed';)  
\--- **LOCATED** ;

 **HANDLER** :_[Relationship: 'Partner']_"Detective Gavin Reed"('Detective'; 'Gavin'; 'Reed';)  
\--- **STATUS** _ **UPDATE** ;

 **HANDLER** :_Relationship_status == [ **& %$##&:^%$**];

 **ANDROID** :_ **RK900** :_"Connor" --- **MAINTANANCE**. **LOG**. **UPDATE** ;

…

…

RK900's eyes snapped wide open. Blaring red code fragments glitched across its HUD.

"DETECTIVE!", It shouted out without a logical reason and threw itself forward, rammed its shoulder into the determined weakest point of the reinforced roll gate. It did it again and again and again until the force of its weight wore down the crying hinges enough to claw its fingers into the metal and pry it apart. "GAVIN!!"

A deafening screech ripped through the horrible silence beyond the gate and the sound was not matchable with anything RK900 found inside of cyberlifes's broad spectrum database. No known animal and, above all, no person made such a bone-chilling noise - awfully loud, predatory, and _hungry_.

It was followed by another garbled scream of RK900's vulnerable human partner, a rippling sound of pure terror and anguish - it barely sounded human at all.

Audible struggles were followed by a stifling kind of silence. RK900's thirium pump reported error after error while it utilized all of its power into the joints of its shoulders and arms to ram, claw and pull an opening into the gate big enough for it to squeeze through.

"GAVIN!!", it shouted once more into the silent darkness of the abandoned production plant. Like predicted the opening in the gate was the only major light source and filled the warehouse with crooked shadows around disused assembly lines and old production robotics.

As far as RK900 was able to register, there was no sign of life inside.

But there was blood.  
Oh, so much blood.

A rotten stench filled the air, so thick and warm that RK900 could analyze the composition of all its decomposing biological matters on its tongue.

Since the software for its night and heat vision was still unresponsive, RK900 projected light from the holographic emitters of its hands and stared in horror down at the drag marks on the concrete ground.

Someone - *something* - had grabbed its partner and dragged him back. RK900 stepped over the broken tips of bloodied fingernails that must have ripped out through the force of the pull as Detective Reed had clawed along the floor to save himself. RK900 lifted its almost blind eyes from the evidence and stared into the darkness.

"Gavin…?"

It did not *want* to confirm if it was all its partner's blood. It did not want to because a positive would mean that Detective Reed already lost almost two liters of it that now drenched the floor like a grotesque sort of paint.

A hollow noise emitted somewhere from the middle of the hall. It sounded like a ripping, like tearing of fabric - and something else.

On silent steps, RK900 moved slowly through the darkness. It twitched as it hit something with the tip of its boot. As it spied down it found Detective Reed's gun, bloody and the clip not yet empty. RK900 lifted it carefully off the ground as it tried to spot movement in the hall. "Gavin…?"

Another barely audible noise echoed between the deactivated machines, comparable to the sound of breaking or splintering twigs of wood.

Suddenly the darkness filled with a thick, lurking growl. RK900 knew like no one else that nothing known to men sounded like this.

RK900's sensors registered and tracked neither movement nor a solid figure. Its vision glitched into a mess of barely functional data.

Further, it used the holoprojectors in its hand to illuminating the space in front of it in search of anything of value that could help RK900 find its partner. "Detective? Gav-..."

The sight of what it was forced to analyzed just two seemingly minuscule steps later skyrocketed the temperature of RK900's overclocking main processor, while its heat management system flooded coolant around its fluttering thirium pump and, in the process, made it almost freeze over.

Inside the perimeter of a decomposing nest of decaying biological matter sat a barely humanoid creature. The Thing that cowered above Detective Reed's unresponsive body had coal-black skin and eyes at least four times as big as a human's. They reflected RK900's light in an eerily green glint.

It held Detective Reed's body in its finger-long claws, which buried right through his clothes into his lower back and abdomen while it already sunk its needle-like teeth into the crook of his neck. Every time the beast shook its head, it ripped fabric and tore at flesh and bones. Detective Reed's left arm was clearly pulled out of its socket, barely held into place by the leather of his torn and bloody jacket.

The data gathered by RK900s optical units glitched tore and forced it to blink when all of RK900's limbs seemed to lock into place with the wave of pure terror that crawled up its artificial spine. Its stress levels shot above the ninety percent mark while it knew, whatever it saw, it was not a creature known to mankind.

The coal-black predator tore a chunk of fabric and flesh out of Detective Reed's shoulder, quashed splintering bone fragments between its horrifying, plentiful teeth, and then it looked up at RK900.

It _screamed_.

RK900 adjusted its aim and shot through its open maw right into its head.

The monstrous creature twitched back and made a gurgling noise. Detective Reed slipped through its hold and fell with a wet splat to the ground into a motionless heap.

But instantly the creature's bloody head whipped around and its lanky body turned. Faster as its outrageous anatomy suggested, it leaped and reached out for RK900's head.

\- RK900 sent six more rounds through its skull until its twitching body fell completely unresponsive. As it died, its limbs curled towards its body while it stared at RK900 out of hollow, bulging eyes.

The static crackling under RK900's skin and inside its whole system slowly faded away together with the light in the creature's unsettling eyes.

As soon as the threat was eliminated the gun slipped out of RK900's hand. Instantly it turned and rushed forward to its Partner.

"DETECTIVE!!"

* * *

RK900 shivered through everlasting waves and could not stop them. On numb feet, it followed the stretcher and was not removed from Detective Reed's side when the reinforcement came.

The Officers tried, wide-eyed, and fearful when RK900 did not take their orders. Instead, RK900 stayed.

Its LED burned through bright red circles while it performed self-check after self-check as it sat on a cheap plastic chair in the waiting area of the nearest hospital. Right this moment a dozen surgeons, androids and humans alike, performed emergency surgery to save Detective Reed's life and his left arm from amputation.

RK900's self-check algorithm reported no errors, which by all means could not be. All of those glitches and static stutters couldn't have happened without severe damage or disruption to RK900's artificial nervous system. No RK900 android was build to fail this way. Further was no RK900 android build to be afraid or deny orders from humans.

Captain Jeffrey Fowler had stepped between it and the Officers at the scene and told them to forget it ever happened or maybe see themselves transferred somewhere far to the south.

He now sat beside RK900 with a grim expression on his face.

"Will you tell me now what happened?", he asked, his voice grave silent and his eyes dark and tired. RK900 did. It gave its report like it always did.

Captain Fowler listened, gave no sign of disbelief but at the end shoved a case tablet into RK900's shaking hands. "I want a copy of all the footage you took, all the data you collected, and every last one of your conclusions."

RK900 placed its hand down and initiated an interface with the device. It did as it was told. As it should. When it gave back the tablet, Captain Fowler's expression turned rather grim and dark. "Never again will you decline any order given to you in front of other people."

RK900's face twitched into an unpracticed grimace. "I won't be remov-…"

"No!", interrupted the Captain, silently but still so very furious. "I already lost my best friend because of the likes-…"

Whatever he wanted to say, he stopped himself and took a deep breath first. "The revolution _failed_ , Arkay. You won't be safe. If other people suspect you are a deviant, a completely new brand of deviant, there will be nothing that protects you because these laws go so far above my pay grade I can't even lick the boots of the people who maintain them."

RK900 knew. It knew deviancy, even though experiencing it was something so completely different. "I don't want to be removed."

Captain Fowler looked at it through a deep frown and breathed a voiceless sigh. "Back then", he huffed out. "My friend asked me if we might be on the wrong side of history. We were. I know. I don't want to be responsible for another downfall."

RK900 nodded even though it did not understand. All things considered, it did not truly matter, anyway.

"RK900", Captain Fowler stated loud and clear. "As soon as Detective Reed is stable and out of the theater you are ordered to stay with him as his personal security profile since there is reason to assume his attacker will come back for a second attempt of murder."

No. No, it would not since RK900 saw it die. RK900 folded its jittering hands until the hardened plastic of its shell cracked along the back of its right hand under its pressing fingertips.

It still confirmed its new mission, obedient as ordered.

* * *

"Your Detective Reed must have the luck of the devil", the lead surgeon said to Captain Fowler while he also fumbled with his note pad. "This… _attack_ , if you want to call it that, was brutal like nothing I have ever seen."

RK900 fought down the impulse to shout in his face. This was not luck. This was plain awful misery. Captain Fowler seemed to sense something in the air. His hand laid down on RK900's shoulder. "Can't disagree on that. Thank god that young bastard always knew how to survive", he said. The surgeon looked up and smiled, a stretched expression with too many teeth. His eyes fell on RK900. "That the unit that was with him?"

Captain Fowler confirmed.  
"I w- was", RK900 stuttered while static crackled through its voice.

The surgeon ignored it. "Has it any records of what happened? This case is rather curious. I would sleep a lot better in the future if I could confirm my own conclusions about your man's injuries."

Captain Fowler looked at RK900, then at the surgeon before he nodded his approval. Together the humans sat down in the Doctors Office while RK900 stood at parade rest behind Captain Fowler's chair.

Captain Fowler put the case tablet on the table before he turned and slightly nudged RK900's arm. "Would you kindly sort through the data and show us the footage?"

The surgeon lifted his brow but did not comment. RK900 obeyed.

As a motionless figure in the background, RK900 stood and shivered while it watched a younger version of itself hunt for Mr. Chelsea Towers.

It watched once more how easily Mr. Towers trampled down its partner and left a trail of warm, red blood behind. It watched itself and its partner follow the trail until they arrived at the abandoned production plant.

RK900's artificial muscles squeezed around all of its shivering components when it had to listen once more to Detective Reed's scream of pure unadulterated terror.

The footage showed even the disruption of RK900's systems through this undefined signal it had received. The inexplicable anomaly.

The moment of its deviancy.

RK900 felt the phantom sensation of that reinforced roll gate press against the palms of its hands.

It watched this younger version of itself sneak through utter darkness. It was odd. Its auditory trackers recorded no noise, not a single grating sound. But it had recorded its own voice as it called for its partner, so its audio processor had clearly been unaffected by the anomaly.

At the same time, its visual processors recorded a strong unknown interference. Like a filter of crackling white noise all over the footage.

In this strange mirror version of its memory, RK900 stepped around the assembly lines to see this horrifying and decaying nest of bones, feces, and rotten flesh - only to find Mr. Chelsea Towers as he gnawed with blunt human teeth right through Detective Reed's exposed throat. His eyes showed the prominent glint of absentminded frenzy.

RK900's operating system spewed out one software instability error after another as it instantly dove deep into its own memory bank to recreate what it had seen just some hours ago.

\- But it could not find any trace of the truth. Only this blatant lie remained.

"That's not what I saw", It pressed out with a scalding hot breath, while its expression glitched and contorted into a horrified grimace.

Captain Fowler and the surgeon looked up to it, while RK900's attention was still fixed on the clearly manipulated footage. It saw itself lift Detective Reed's gun and shoot Mr. Towers right through the eye.

"That's not what happened…!", RK900 stuttered out once more while its eyes widened in horror. "This is not right!"

While its skyrocketing working temperature burned through its coolant supply, RK900 watched itself execute Mr. Towers with six more shots through his skull.

Mr. Towers's very dead and very human body fell to the ground with a wet splat into a puddle of his own blood and brain matter.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAW!"

* * *

RK900 opened its eyes to a white room, so bright it oversaturated the footage taken by its optical units. Several times it had to blink artifacts out of its vision.

"You good?"

Captain Fowler sat heavily down on a chair in front of it. RK900 frowned. "What happened?"

Captain Fowler's face did not move. He looked tired, but still so very sharp.

"I had to use your temporary deactivation code", he said. RK900 felt something heavy and hot claw around its thirium pump. "Your stress level was so high, you almost maimed yourself."

Captain Fowler pointed at RK900's hands. The plastic was cracked across its hands and fingers. Some plastic bits were missing and residues of thirium painted strange patterns across its artificial skin. "Around your heart-… thingy… whatever, something overheated and melted the plastic", The Captain went on and pointed next at RK900's chest. Its thirium pump regulator had indeed locked into place through its sweltered outer chassis.

Suddenly RK900 remembered.

"Did you alter my memory files?!", it demanded to know and felt the forgotten terror of being manipulated once more rush through its entire system.

Captain Fowler returned its hard stare and answered with a firm shake of his head. "I wouldn't even know how."

RK900 slowly nodded its acknowledgment. It believed him. Of course, Captain Fowler wouldn't know. There was no human out there who would be able to alter its systems in that way.

No, it had to be that thing. The… _entity_ that had attacked Detective Reed. The anomaly.

RK900 tried to filter through its own memory bank for any trace of the unadulterated footage - but another self-scan showed that none of its memories had been corrupted or forcefully altered.

Once more RK900 watched itself execute a mindless version of Mr. Towers, but all it could say was that it simply _knew_ that this was not what had truly happened. "I did not shoot a human. I did not. I wouldn't have been able to", it stated through its quivering voice.

Captain Fowler looked into its eyes.  
"I believe you", he said. His right hand gestured a wave. "I mean as a deviant you clearly could have shot the man, but I believe that you wouldn't have done it if not forced to."

He hummed a low note before he went on. "Aside from the fact that you told me what you saw. If your memories weren't altered, that would mean you lied to me. I also believe cyberlife's biggest and baddest machine would have ways to create a way more believable lie, even if put on the spot."

He let out a deep sigh while his right hand rubbed along his strong neck. "You deviated when you heard your partner scream for his life. You didn't call immediately for reinforcement because you were confused and terrified."

RK900 slowly nodded, since this was the best explanation it could give as well.

But there was one thing it wanted to make clear. "My emergency protocols demanded of me to leave Detective Reed behind - so I broke them. I shot down a creature that broke his bones and tore his chest wide open with its teeth. I am not sorry."

Captain Fowler produced something frail that could have been a smile. "I guessed so", he said. "Whatever happened, Reed will tell us when he wakes up. So, time for you to get your ass into gear for that order I gave you."

* * *

RK900 did not know what Captain Fowler had told that lead surgeon, but the man gave RK900 a wide berth when their paths crossed again on the corridor.

RK900 decided not to care.

Further, it decided to concentrate its entire processing power onto the only human that mattered.

The moment it took place at Detective Reed's bedside in intensive care, it would not be removed.

To make sure of it, it deactivated all of its motor functions and simply observed its human and its own system for new instances of this strange interference.  
The irrationality of deviancy made it even plan out counterattack measures, should the creature come back for its last victim.

Detective Reed's face was barely less pale than the white sheets he rested on. Over the course of the next hour, his dry lips turned a ghostly blue.

Even around the time of the first operation, infection had already set in. With the way the crime scene had looked, there had been no way to avoid it.

Three hours later the fingertips of Detective Reed's left hand turned black while the nurses reported to the doctors the abhorrent stench of fouling flesh.

A second operation followed a third. All the surgeons had not been able to save Detective Reed's maimed left arm in the end.

When the Detective was again placed under intensive care, he already ran a high temperature.

It took four days for him to gather the strength to open his eyes. His low and weak huff instantly woke RK900 out of its mindless observation mode.

Immediately it stood above him. Detective Reed couldn't speak. The anomaly had gnawed right through his vocal cords. The faint noises of waking panic he produced instead felt almost even more haunting to RK900 than his recorded screams in the dark.

RK900 sat down at his bedside and gently held his remaining hand. Its visual presence seemed to calm Detective Reed's dangerously thundering heartbeat.

In the following hours, the infection ate even more away at Detective Reed's body, bruised and hollowed his eyes, and drenched his hot skin in a sheen of ice-cold sweat.

Two days later sepsis filled the fresh operation wounds on his neck and shoulder with wet pus and another round of surgery had to be performed to cut away decaying flesh.

"This is nothing I have ever seen!", said the leading doctor in reaction to Captain Fowler's undirected ire, who, as Detective Reed's authorized emergency contact, carried the heavy burden of any and all decision-making. "There is nothing like this, nothing at all! Of course, even human bites can cause sepsis through bacteria, but they are not literally venomous!"

To explain his point further he showed Captain Fowler the data of Detective Reed's last taken bloodwork. "This… _venom_ destroys his cell structure - and we can't even pinpoint what exactly is causing it!"

Captain Fowler slowly nodded and pressed his lips into a tight line. The doctor went on.

"Aside from that, there are also his bitemarks. The marks are clearly human, no doubt about it. But… so much… _wider_. The marks of the upper and under jaw are so far apart… like his attacker unhinged his jaw beforehand."

RK900 silently listened and wanted to scream because, _of course_ , nothing of this made any sense. The anomaly was not human. _Detective Reed had not been attacked by a puny human_.

The Detective, weak but brave, fought his fever down once more and woke again five days later, wide-eyed and panicked, while his breath rattled loudly through his stitched up throat.

RK900 stayed at any moment at his bedside, held his hand, and murmured endlessly sweet and calming somethings and nothing's in his ear, while it observed in silent horror Detective Reed's weakening vital signs. There was nothing it could do, this fight was his and his alone.

Detective Reed blinked like caught in a trance and opened his mouth. Threads of thick salvia stuck to his lower lip as he suddenly rasped out a clear and awful sound. "N-… Ni-… nes…"

RK900 called the night nurse.

* * *

"How can he even speak at all?!", Captain Fowler roared against Detective Reed's doctor the next morning. "You said he shouldn't even be able to-…"

The Doctor interrupted by lifting both of his hands in a disarming gesture. "We made an x-ray last night", he said, his eyes narrowed and gravely serious. "It-… _something_ grew back. Not quite… _right_. It doesn't look finished, but his vocal cords are clearly there. See?"

He showed Captain Fowler the mentioned x-ray, who let himself fall heavily back into his seat. "How", he asked.

The Doctor had the audacity to answer only with a shrug. "We have not a single idea", he said as if that wasn't the most infuriating thing anyone could say in a situation like this.

RK900 went back to take its place at its partner's bedside. Even though he now clearly could, Detective Reed did not speak above a handful of words he repeated over and over and _over_ again.

The most prominent one was _Nines_ , which RK900 dared to interpret as an abbreviation of its own model designation. Every time it heard Detective Reed mutter it, it felt something hot and strong squeeze around its overclocking thirium pump.

Even though its system could barely parse this new voice as the Detective's own. Gone was Detective Reed's low tenor and his rasping laughter. The noises he produced now sounded a lot more like a mimicking avian. They did not sound human, at all.

The other ones he often repeated were 'water', 'hurts', and 'tired'. The context for any of them was not very hard to guess.

RK900 stayed with him through day and night. It held his hand and helped him drink and eat and relieve himself. There was nothing to be done but wait, hope, and see.

See that it wouldn't get any better.

Days later RK900 registered a sudden inflammation along Detective Reed's gums. It did not even take another day for him to lose his first tooth to the infection.

Detective Reed's rasping breaths went now so much slower and leveled out a lot longer. His through the unbreakable fever already glassed over eyes became dull and ceased their twitching motions.

RK900 looked down at him and just knew. This was Detective Reeds last night in this realm of existence. Most likely he wouldn't even see the coming dawn.

RK900's breath hitched in early mourning when it gently cradled Detective Reed's hand between its own.

It did not know what to say and it didn't even know if its handler - its _partner_ \- could still hear it.

"I never should have delayed my reports", it muttered anyway in its pain, fed through its own reconstruction of unchangeable events. "I never should have let you go inside on your own. I never should have taken so long to get to you."

It opened its mouth and didn't know what else to say while its chest cavity seemed to fill up with something burning, bright and hot. "Gavin… I am… so, so very sorry…"

There were no hitching lungs, neither tears nor pain. Not really. RK900, even in face of the impending death of its most important person, was not able to cry.

Gently RK900 traced its fingertips along Detective Reed's sweat-slick jaw and moved its thumbs over the ashen skin. Moved them in little circles to provide two solid points of contact while it bowed above its partner's sunken figure. In the most gentle gesture, it could provide RK900 placed a kiss on Detective Reed's fever slick and hot forehead.

It could not cry.  
It was not able to cry.

It wished it could burn away that feeling inside its chest it had not ever asked for.

RK900's shoulders hitched with its breath as it curled even closer to and around its one human that mattered the most.

Its teeth bared in a pained grimace as it carefully closed both of its arms around its partner's head.

Once more it gently kissed his cheek when trace amounts of Detective Reed's sweat found their way onto RK900's analyzing tool.

No trace amount of iron.

RK900's eyes snapped open when Detective Reed's whole body convulsed in its arms. His jittering right hand followed the line of RK900's back and his fingers linked into the fabric of its uniform jacket.

His mouth opened wide through a wet gasp before he forced a croaking sound out of his inflamed and sore throat. "Ha- hurtsss."

RK900 froze in its position when the anomaly was suddenly right there, slammed into it, and disrupted all of its major systems with a humming wall of white noise and screeching rebound.

It tried to throw itself back, but Detective Reed had clawed his fist into its collar and held it in place like no human should ever be able to.

RK900 clawed at the bed to get away when a coal-black figure glitched across his peripheral vision and enveloped Detective Reed until his gasping mouth filled with a hundred needle-like teeth. The creature's wide-open maw snapped shut around the crook of RK900's neck and tore and shook like a rabid beast.

It sucked and gulped down thirium like it was the only thing that could keep it alive.

RK900 screamed.

* * *

Not even an hour later the Doctor came to confirm and document Detective Reed's death.

The thirium he had swallowed in his wild frenzy only needed around three minutes to poison his blood and corrode the walls of his stomach.

He died twenty-seven minutes later when his own stomach acids flooded his bowel and corroded most of his major organs.

RK900 shivered so strongly, it could not even speak.

As soon as Captain Fowler was informed about the event, RK900 was ordered back to the station for instant repairs. Meanwhile, Captain Fowler demanded any and all video evidence of what had taken place in that room that night.

The repairs did not do anything to soothe RK900's grief and anguish. Its analyzing tools detected Detective Reed's blood and saliva all over its skin and uniform.

After the repairs, RK900 stole itself into the training room and the showers. It scrubbed itself down until its artificial skin glitched out at its chest and shoulder - until it finally felt like it could breathe again.

But nothing could stop the phantom sensation of that monster's reconstructed touch, as it held onto and clawed at RK900 and tore right through its chassis like it was only made out of cheap plastic.

Detective Reed - that _thing_ \- never should have been able to break through RK900's skin.

Hours later Captain Fowler called it into his office. He showed it the footage.

There never had been a monster, it seemed. Only Detective Reed. RK900 tried to remember what it had truly seen that night but again could only reproduce a twisted nightmare version of it all.

It gave up its self scans the moment it encountered the memory of Detective Reed's hollow staring eyes.

Captain Fowler ordered it to rest and stay.

RK900 did not leave his office for the following eight days.

* * *

Detective Reed was laid to rest on an unassuming Tuesday morning. The sky was white with thick rain-heavy clouds and the earth smelled of mold and vermin.

RK900 stood at Captain Fowler's side at the funeral for a man without any close friends or family. Another name on a stone, as soon forgotten as people left through the gates.

RK900 stared down at the cheap plywood coffin and felt ill in a way he should not be able to. He should not be able to feel anything at all. And yet.

RK900 tightly hugged his arms to his chest.

Captain Fowler placed his hand down on his shoulder. Shook him in a gesture of camaraderie in the face of death and haunting ghosts.

"He was a good man", the Captain said. "And you are a good one, too. Don't forget that, son."

But RK900 was no man at all, was he?

As soon as he had felt able to, he slipped out of his uniform and ignored any and all orders to take it on again.

He looked human, he sounded human - but underneath all that, what was RK900 really?

All things considered, RK900 did not know. He would have loved to find out together with Detective Reed. Another day, another chase. RK900 did not care for anyone else.

Now he stared down at the remains of his most important person and learned that who he was, did not truly matter. Whether he was machine or human or monster.

Captain Fowler cleared his throat. When RK900 lifted his head, the human held a keychain out to him. Detective Reed's keychain.

"I neglected to inform his landlord", Captain Fowler said, his eyes stubbornly turned forward. "I can't give you rights nor legal paper's… but… for a man like you. I guess Reed would not be mad if his name haunted us all a little while longer."

RK900 took the keys and gently stroked along the chain of cat pendants.

A name, a birth certificate - even grade school report cards.

He could go and take the history of his partner with him. Like a soothing blanket. Something to hold close and remember him by.

* * *

After the funeral RK900 did not return to the station. Instead, he followed in Detective Reed's footsteps back to his apartment.

When he opened the door the smell of death and decay was imminent. RK900 flinched back and fought against the instinct to slam that door back shut.

He had to take many, many deep breaths he technically did not even need before he dared to step over the threshold.

As it turned out Detective Reed had not been a completely solitary creature.

On the living room carpet, RK900 found the remains of a once quite beautiful sphinx cat. It had starved to death days ago.

RK900 had no way of burying it, so he put it in a towel and laid it down on what seemed to have been its former favorite place at the windowsill.

With a heavy and tired sigh, RK900 sat down on the couch where he swayed and listened to the ticking manual clock on the wall. He did not move for the following five days.

On the sixth Detective Reed's Landlord knocked repeatedly before she shoved an open envelope through the narrow slit under the door.

RK900 closed his eyes and slipped into stasis.

He opened his eyes thirty-seven hours later to pitch-black darkness and the sound of a close thunderstorm. Rain thrummed in a soft, unpredictable rhythm against the big living room windows.

A static hum disrupted his systems. RK900 froze in utter terror while his artificial ears filled with a rebounding noise that made him want to cover them and somehow make it stop this way.

Dragging footsteps in the hall drowned out the noise when something moved behind the door. Five solid claws scratched audibly along the wood.

Slowly RK900 turned his head.

Helplessly he stared at the silently rattling doorknob, while blinding fear locked up all of his hydraulics.

Once more he remembered clearly, vividly, what he saw but could not retell. The anomaly.

Soundlessly RK900 slipped to the front door and placed his right hand against the wood. He felt the pressing weight. The scratch of its splinters catching fingernails on the other side.

RK900 opened the door.

On the threshold, it found a crooked figure of barely humanoid statue. Its skin was ice cold and ashen grey, its torn suit drenched in days old mud and dirt. Uneven steps had dragged a trail of graveyard earth through the hall that was now filled with the rancid stench of decay.

The coal-black anomaly wore a resemblance to Detective Reed's face. Its bulging eyes wide and filled with pus and desperation.

"N- Ninesss", it croaked through its mimicking voice and stretched out the mangy claws of its only remaining right hand. "…Hurts…"

**Author's Note:**

> Since this Ndro-ID sequence is one of the longest I've written so far and it's at the same time the sequence of RK900's deviation, I leave A bit of support for the really curious ones. 
> 
> *****  
> T.A.P. --- Threat Assessment Protocol  
> M_SC --- Maintenance Scan  
> PR_C-v975.EXE --- Pre-/Reconstruction, Software version 975  
> HS.VISUAL.PROCESSOR --- Heat Signature  
> M.VISUAL.PROCESSOR --- Main Visual  
> PRE.CON_MATRIX --- Pre-/Reconstruction program  
> AUDIO.NC.FILTER --- Audio Noise Cancelling Filter  
> M.AUDIO.PROCESSOR --- Main Audio  
> M.MOTION.S(1-100) --- Motion Sensors numbered one up to 16.000, I guess  
> *****
> 
> I hope you like eery monster stories :]  
> Since our Detective is clearly not quite dead yet, he gets to be the Monster boyfriend this time.


End file.
